Drasa’s POV
I didn’t expect much when I opened my locker that morning. Maybe a stray pencil falling out or a crumpled piece of last week’s homework wedged in the corner. But what I found instead was a folded slip of paper. No name. No handwriting I recognized. Just a single line scribbled in bold black ink:
“I know.”
That was it. Two words. Vague, cold, and buzzing with implication.
I stared at it for a second longer than I should have. My fingers tightened around the note as I glanced down the hall, scanning the faces of students rushing past. none of them looked particularly interested in me.
Still, I felt the weight of eyes that weren’t there.
Was this supposed to mean something?
And who the hell was this ‘I’?
I stuffed it into my bag with more force than necessary and slamme
